


Be True

by Simara



Series: Idioms [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Crime, Developing Relationship, Edward and his weird love for tables, Friends to Lovers, Injury, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Scriddler, doing crime substitutes going on dates apparently, fear toxin, set four years after The Dawn, this might be a series but they all work on their own
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-08-20 15:03:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8253361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simara/pseuds/Simara
Summary: Some things are just too good to be true.





	1. Be True (part 1)

**Be True**

_Part 1_

 

“Harvey. Long time no see.“ At least thirty armed men were starring at them.

“You’re looking good. New suit?” Edward ignored the comment.

“Listen, if you’re here for the gemstone collection you might as well go home now.” Harvey made a sound that was halfway between a growl and a chuckle.

“Are you trying to threaten me?”

“Just some friendly advice.” Edward shrugged, smiling sheepishly.  “Me and the girls didn’t leave much behind.”

“I see. I could still take your loot at gunpoint, though.” Edward shifted under his stare but didn’t allow his smile to falter. Addressing Harvey’s henchmen he said:

“You know what they say about men with big guns…” None of them dared to react, but Query and Echo had to suppress a snicker. “Now excuse me, I’ve got a Bat to ridicule.” Edward tried to move, but Harvey grabbed his arm and pulled him close.

“Careful, Eddie.” Harvey had dropped his voice low enough for only Edward to understand. “He’s going to get you. That’s what he _does_.” Edward glared at him. Harvey let go. “You can’t keep going like this. You’ll need an alliance.”

“With you? In your dreams Harv.”

“It’s not like you’ve got any other friends.” Edward laughed. It sounded somewhat forced.  
“We haven’t been ‘friends’ for almost four years now and it just so happens that I’ve got several acquaintances that would be of far greater use than you.”  

“Boss?” Query asked, glancing at the bat-signal that had appeared in the sky. “You’re coming?”

“Sure thing, girls.” Edward gave a mock bow. “Good evening, Gentlemen. Here’s one for you to brood over as you lay sleepless in your beds tonight: What forms in an instant but lasts for a lifetime?” He waved at them before turning to leave.

It wasn’t until they had moved past the next corner that his composure slipped.

“The next time I run into him”, he said. “You’ve got permission to knock me out and drag me home.”

“That was ballsy, Eddie”, Echo chimed in, poking Edward in the rips. “What _does_ form in an instant but lasts for a lifetime?” Edward chuckled.

“The very thing that kept him from shooting us in the back.” Echo gave Query a questioning look.

“Memory”, the other woman said, shaking her head. “It’s memory. What now, boss?”

“We finish this as planned and drop the diamonds off at the hideout. You’ll get your share, we part ways and everyone is content. Then… well, let’s just say that Harvey just gave me some ideas.”

“Do _you_ know what that means?” Query whispered to Echo. Echo shrugged and made a rude gesture.  
“I don’t think I _want_ to know.” The two heavily armed women started to giggle.

 

It was a rather flattering picture; even Jonathan had to admit that. Some reckless reporter must have managed to take it during one of the Riddler’s latest escapes: Edward was standing on a truck bed, looking over his shoulder – most likely to check if they had managed to shake off the batmobile yet –, grinning widely. Edward’s hair had grown somewhat since Jonathan had last seen him; its colour seemed especially vibrant in the photograph. Jonathan picked the magazine up to get a closer look.

“Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” The old cashier offered. “I remember when that boy wore spandex, for god’s sake. Never thought he’d become one of the big ones.” Jonathan forced a smile and put his groceries on the counter.

“I wouldn’t go as far as to call him that.” The cashier nodded towards the magazine, agitated.

“People died. That’s what they say, all right. He’s as bad as them others, he is.”

Jonathan paid and left in silence. He made his way through the busy streets of Gotham without being recognized by anyone. People tended to see right past him these days. He was no more than a shadow to them, just another strange old man. Something inside of him twitched at the thought of stopping and turning and facing them as Scarecrow. It wouldn’t take much to make them see, to make them fear him. But why bother? Jonathan felt tired when he arrived at his flat; an old, rundown thing with one room and a kitchen-sink that barely worked. He bore it with a stoic pride, knowing that it was only a matter of time till he had… arranged enough money to pay for something more sufficient. Jonathan opened the door – and almost let go off his groceries. He tightened his grip in the nick of time and forced himself to put the bags down in a more controlled fashion.

Edward Nygma lay on Jonathan’s desk, supporting his weight on one elbow and using his other hand to flick through some of Jonathan’s notes. One of his legs was dangling over the edge of the table; the other was positioned in an almost indecent way.

“For heaven’s sake – Edward, get off my desk!” Edward hopped off the table with a dignified smile.

“I never thought I’d say this but I liked your old place better.”

“Well – We all have our ups and downs.”

“It’s been more of an ‘up’ for me.”

“I’ve noticed. What are you here for?” Edward’s lips twitched.

“Can’t I visit an old friend for friendships sake?”

“We both know that you’re not that kind of person.” He didn’t make the effort to deny that an odd kind of friendship had indeed formed between them. Edward raised his chin as he continued to speak. It used to give him the air of a boy playing make-believe but nowadays there was actual authority behind it:

“We’ll skip the niceties, then. I’ve got an offer for you and judging by what I’ve seen since I’ve entered these hopefully temporal lodgings, you would be foolish to-” Jonathan interrupted him right there.

“I decline.” His main reason for saying it was that he wanted to see Edward loose his cool. It was rather impressive to him that the boy – he would never stop to refer to Edward as such, no matter how successful he’d become in his criminal career – only granted him a cold smile.

“Ah, but I haven’t even told you the best bit. You would get to pay a visit to the dear old dean of Gotham State University's psychology department and interrupt a private faculty dinner.” Something inside of Jonathan stirred.

“I’m listening.”

Edward was beaming as he told him all about the scheme and his enthusiasm almost veiled the fact that there wouldn't be much money in it. Almost.

"All that effort for some jewelery and a bit of data? Can't you just hack into his system without even setting foot into his house?"

"Please, Jonathan, you insult me. That's cheating." Edward smiled a false smile that couldn't fool Jonathan. “You’ll get to play with them as much as you like while I pick up what I need. That's worth something, right?” Jonathan was busy studying Edward’s face. He couldn’t help but feel that there was something important kept secret from him.

“I’ll get halve of the share.” Edward extended his hand.

“Deal.” There was _definitely_ something important that Edward hadn’t told him about. 

 

They met in the shadow of a giant, fancy apartment building. The very look of the Scarecrow costume made Edward’s skin crawl. Jonathan seemed even taller when he wore it and the mask made his ever-inquiring eyes even harder to bear. Edward would never admit that, naturally, which is why he greeted Jonathan with a teeth-bearing smile.

“Precisely on time, Professor. You’re not the kind to arrive ‘cum tempore’, are you?” Jonathan’s head shook slightly. It seemed almost disapproving. Edward forced himself to maintain eye contact and shrugged. “Let’s go, then.”

They took the elevator. Jonathan told Edward to stay back (he obeyed reluctantly), then went and knocked on the door. It sounded somewhat surreal; a little too loud, a little too rhythmic. Edward had expected Jonathan to use his toxin the very moment the door was opened. Instead, he stood very still when the dean answered the door.

“Who-“, The dean started, than froze in horror. Jonathan smiled beneath his mask. His voice was husky and melodic as he spoke:

“Rapping at the windows, crying through the locks: Are all the children in their beds? It’s past eight o’clock.” The man tried to run, but Jonathan grabbed him by the throat and covered his mouth with a piece of cloth. Jonathan counted under his breath before releasing the man. He wasn’t unconscious, far from it: He was hyperventilating. Edward watched as the man sank to his knees, clawing at his own flesh. Jonathan chuckled. The sound made Edward feel slightly sick. Jonathan moved past the whimpering dean and entered the flat. He returned a few minutes later.

“Ready?” Edward asked. Jonathan moved very close. His gloved hands grasped Edward’s hair and gave a firm tug.

“Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight.”

“Jonathan-“, Edward hissed, but the Scarecrow put a finger to his lips.

“I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.” Edward glared at him. His heart was beating rapidly.

“Not funny.” He snapped. Jonathan released him with a sudden motion.

“Sorry”, he murmured as he pulled the mask off and touched the bridge of his nose wearily. “I do get lost in my work from time to time.” Edward watched him carefully.

“You’re fine, then?”

“Yes, yes of course I’m fine.” Jonathan answered, irritated. He clarified: “I’m on medication.” 

“I’ve witnessed my fair share of dissociative episodes.” Edward said bitterly as he tried to smooth his hair back down. “You might want to try some different pills. Let’s get to work.”

Some of the guests had passed out but most of them where still whimpering. Jonathan watched them with an expression close to tenderness.

“They won’t scream.” He said, crouching beside a former colleague of his. “I’ve been looking for just the right dose to render them incapable of speaking all together but this will work for now.” Edward did his best to ignore those who tried to grasp his ankles in their state of frantic helplessnes but one of them managed to get a hold of him. A wave of revulsion hit him; he tried to shake the man off but it didn’t work. Then, the whimpering figure extended his other hand, salvia dripping from his mouth, and Edward, in a moment of panic, kicked him hard enough to knock him out. Jonathan watched in mild amusement.

“I’ll have to get some things from the study”, Edward announced, shuddering despite himself. “Won’t be long.” He left in a hurry and closed the door with vigour.

Edward hadn’t expected Jonathan’s methods to be that… messy. Sure, he had read the articles, had been exposed to some form of the toxin himself but to see it affect others had something both morbidly intimate and disturbing. Edward shook his head in silence, started to search through the drawers and picked a random book that had been lent from the university’s library. Then, he moved on to the computer. It wasn’t password protected and Edward smiled in dismay as he made a copy of the enrolment list. This was almost too easy to be fun. As he waited for the files to transfer, his eyes found a golden pocket watch. He decided to keep it as a souvenir; then removed his flash drive. He hesitated for just a moment, then shrugged and set up a password out of sheer spite. Edward was just about to get up, when he heard the sirens. He bit back a curse. Jonathan opened the door, irritated.

“The whole building is surrounded by police.” Edward gave a nervous little laugh.

“The Bat seems to be getting better at riddles, then.” A pained expression formed on Jonathan's face.

“Tell me you haven’t-“

“Of course I have, that’s my thing!” Edward hissed. “We should hurry up, get your stuff. I’ll just have to…” His hands were steady as he ripped out the front page of the book he had grabbed earlier, but his writing was a little shaky as he wrote:

_You might want to keep him from bringing his homework._

He took the deacons letter opener and pinned the note to the table. It took two attempts before it stuck and from the way he shook his hand afterwards, Jonathan gathered that the desk was slightly more withstanding than Edward had anticipated. Suddenly, there was a screeching sound coming from Edward’s headset. Both of them flinched.

 _“Nygma!”_ Edward started to run as he heard the all too familiar growl. He ducked into the hallway and Jonathan only barely managed to keep up with him. A man his age shouldn’t be expected to run about at such an hour. _“Nygma I warned you-”_ Edward was too busy escaping to listen. He tore the headset off and smashed it with his heel, then turned around frantically.

“What are you looking for?” Jonathan asked.

“Fire exit. There should be- Ah!” There was an iron ladder, starting about five feet above the floor, apparently leading to the roof.

While Jonathan had a clear height advantage, it took Edward some notable effort to get onto the ladder. They did manage to climb up to the roof eventually. Jonathan wasn’t too thrilled with the situation there though: The building stand somewhat apart from its neighbouring houses; there was no possibility to get away. Edward didn’t seem too bothered by the prospect. He dashed past Jonathan, had a quick look around and nodded towards a giant crane standing halfway between them and a building on the other side of the street. It probably belonged to some construction company. There were always skyscrapers to repair in a city as infected with supervillainy as Gotham.

“Tell me, Jonathan, what extends until it snaps, and kills if it does?”

“My patience with your riddles?” Edward clicked his tongue in disapproval and pulled out a grappling hook.

“I’ve calibrated this. If we manage to swing to the other side, we’ll be able to go in several directions, the buildings in this neighbour hood are close enough to each other to move smoothly.” So that’s why Edward wanted to attack the deacon at home, Jonathan realized. The university was hard to escape from, as Jonathan had learned the hard way on more than one occasion. It didn’t explain why Edward thought this whole venture to be profitable to begin with but it was good to know that there was some kind of escape plan at all. Still, the prospect of trusting Edward to get him over this abyss was putting him off.

“There has to be another way-“, he started with a doubtful look downwards. Edward opened his arms with a grin.

“Are you afraid I might drop you?” They both knew that there was no way that Jonathan would let that unchallenged. His spindly fingers buried themselves into Edward’s flesh at once.

“If me make it through this”, he hissed. “I’ll make you regret your arrogance.” Edward smirked as he put his arm around Jonathan.

“Admit it, this is pretty cool.” Before Jonathan had the chance to scold Edward for being childish, Edward jumped and for a full twenty seconds, Jonathan was certain that they would fall into certain death. Then, his feet met concrete and his knees gave way. 

“I’ve always wanted to do something like that”, he heard Edward admit hoarsely, “But it looks somewhat easier when _they_ do it. Need a hand?” Edward helped him back to his feet without waiting for an answer. Jonathan glared at him – which might be why he didn’t see the armed officers reaching the edge of the roof they’d just left.                                                                                     

“Hold! GCPD!” Edward reacted instantly when he saw them point there weapons at them: He grabbed Jonathan and pushed him around a corner. Gunshots echoed through the night. Edward’s breathing was heavy.

“That was a close call”, he murmured, smoothing down Jonathan’s collar where he’d grabbed it. “You can thank me later for sa-” Jonathan should have known better but the adrenalin rush got the best of him: He put a hand onto Edward’s neck and pulled him close as he leaned in. Edward made a surprised noise when their lips met but did not make attempts to stop him – On the contrary: Edward opened his mouth and invited Jonathan to deepen the kiss. It was somewhat clumsy, at first, but Jonathan was a quick learner: He picked up on every reaction and adjusted his movements. One of his hands was buried in Edward’s hair as they parted, the other lay on Edward’s hip.

“Rude”, Edward said without meaning it. “You interrupted me.” He tried to lean in again and steal another kiss but Jonathan turned away.

“They’ll get us if we stay here.” Edward shrugged, biting his lip.

“I know a place nearby,” He suggested. Jonathan seemed appalled. Edward chuckled.

“I wasn’t even thinking about _that_ but if you’re up for it-“ Jonathan’s voice was cold as he said:

“You’ve almost got both of us killed and you haven’t even told me what for.” Edward’s jaw clenched visibly.

“Go figure”, he said, making a vague gesture as he turned to leave. “I’m going to get myself out of the crossfire, feel free to come along.” Jonathan considered to walk in the opposite direction just to spite Edward. He didn’t, of course.

Jonathan touched his lips as he followed Edward. His reaction had been completely unprofessional and, to his own surprise, rather uncharacteristic on his part. He wasn’t sure what exactly had provoked him to take Edward up on the often offered kisses. One more question he would need to find the answer to. The irony wasn't lost on him.

Edward watched Jonathan out of the corner of his eye. His heart was still beating a little too fast. He had grown rather used to Jonathan’s dry rejections and, over everything else, his begrudging friendship. It irritated him that Jonathan didn’t speak, that he acted as though nothing had happened. Hell, to be honest, he wasn’t even sure if he _really_ approved of Jonathan reacting like that and he could use a little help figuring it out. He could hardly _ask_ Jonathan what just happened, he was way too proud for that, but he’d appreciate if Jon could drop a few hints to solve this riddle. Right now was not the time to dwell on it, though; they had to keep moving. Getting caught by the Bat wouldn’t make this development any less confusing.

 

They were immediately greeted by the receptionist once they entered the motel.

“Ah, Mr. Nygma! I had a hunch you’d come tonight.” The middle-aged woman winked at Edward without even glancing at Jonathan. “The suites are all taken but I could give you the keys to the _Fugitive’s Flat_.”

“That would be grand, sweetheart; we’ll be gone in a few hours anyway”, Edward said, taking the keys with a dazzling smile. Jonathan huffed and used the opportunity to have a quick look around: Something about the expensive interior seemed awfully familiar.

“Mr. Crane? Are you quite ready?” The women’s voice was full of professional friendliness but it had an urging undertone. “You wouldn’t want to be found standing around in the lobby should the police stop by, would you now?”

The _Fugitive’s Flat_ was concealed behind an untidy storage room. There was a single bed, a few chairs and a mini-bar in there. The furniture seemed more expensive than anything Jonathan had ever owned, including the warehouse he had used as a laboratory untill the Batman had found out about it last fall.

“You seem to have quite a few connections, nowadays.” Jonathan prompted.

“This establishment belongs to our dear friend Oswald”, Edward explained, voicing what Jonathan had already figured out in the entrance hall. “We’ll wait till the GCPD tires and then we’ll part to go to our respective accommodations. This was fun, by the way. We should do it again some time. Call me.” He handed Jonathan his card. “And don’t throw it away, this time.” Jonathan shook his head with a scoff.

“The only thing we managed to do tonight is barely escape and yet I can’t help but feel that you’ve got just what you wanted.” The smile on Edward’s lips was hollow.

“I’ve started to play the long game.”

“Edward”, Jonathan could frankly be quite intimidating when he wanted to and Edward couldn’t help but take a step backwards when Jonathan moved closer. “What did you get yourself into?” Edward straightened his shoulders and raised his chin.

“Riddle me this”, he purred, “How do you get the Bat out of the belfry?” Jonathan’s brow furrowed.

“What-“, and then it all made sense. Jonathan’s eyes went wide. “You’re trying to uncover his identity.” A mock-smile formed on Edward’s lips.

“Am I?”

“You wanted him to know what you found… The deans computer is connected to the university server. My guess is that you needed the enrolment list.” Edward seemed intrigued now.

“What for, though?” Jonathan took a moment to ponder the question.

“You’re targeting the boy.” He answered slowly. “You’re looking into Robin because you couldn’t find the Bat.” He paused. “He must be furious.”

“I hope so.” Edward seemed positively gleeful. Jonathan felt the wish to slap some common sense into him.

“You’re hunting him. That’s-”

“Brilliant?”, Edward interrupted, smirking.

“Reckless.” The word made Edward’s smile freeze.

“I’ve got everything under control”, he snapped back. “He’s doing exactly what I want him to do!” Jonathan watched him carefully.

“Don’t get me wrong”, Jonathan said. “You’ve quite impressed me.” Edward beamed with pride. “Still…” Edward took some courage from the half-hearted praise and tugged Jonathan closer, raising his eyebrows defiantly.

“What’s he gonna do to me, Jon? He doesn’t kill!” Jonathan didn’t push Edward’s hand away even though the sudden closeness irritated him somewhat.

“He’s no saint. You’re not threatening him alone; you’re going after those he cares about. There’s only so much a man like him will bear.” Edward chuckled.

“If he killed me then”, he said and it sounded almost detached in its lightness. “It would still be a victory, wouldn’t it? He would proof to be no more than a brutish thug.”

“You’ve changed.” Edward’s smile turned cruel.

“For the better, I presume.” Jonathan’s lips brushed Edward’s in a sudden attempt to shut him up with another kiss but he was refused. “I’m not in the mood”, Edward said, taking a step backwards. “I find it rather strange that you are, given your previous disinterest.”

“No less than me”, Jonathan said. It might just have been the truest words he had ever spoken in Edward’s present. “I’ve never met someone quite as obtrusive as you.”

“Obtrusive?” Edward sounded bitter. “Sure, if that narrative makes you feel any better about-“ Jonathan hushed him with a firm gesture.

“There is no need to be offended. You _are_ an extremely intense personality and I’ve grown to value that.” Edward couldn’t help but smile.

“You know, that was almost charming, going by your standards.”

“Don’t get used to it, then”, Jonathan said in an uncharacteristically soft voice. “I’m not known to be a pleasant person.” Edward smirked.

“My, I never noticed”, he said and Jonathan, to his own surprise, didn’t mind his teasing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, the second halve will be up soon. Thanks for sticking around guys, you're the best! :)


	2. Be True. Part 2.

**Be True**

_Part 2_

 

Jonathan didn’t call Edward, even though he’d kept the card. There were numerous reasons, or so he told himself, for keeping some distance. He was certain that their paths would cross again sooner or later anyway, so why rush it, right? Jonathan had to admit that he wasn’t sure if he was anticipating or dreading that next encounter but he had hardly the time to dwell on such details: His days where spend working on chemical formulas and endless experiments. He was close, so very close to developing a recipe that would make the hallucinations last for up to 48 hours.

One night, some two months since he’d kissed Edward Nygma, he was interrupted by a clanking noise and a muffled curse. Jonathan opened the door and resisted the urge to shut it immediately when he saw Edward’s pale face. He seemed to have interrupted him picking the lock.

“You have to stop coming to me when you’re in trouble. It’s starting to feel like some sort of pathological reaction.” Edward turned up his nose. The gesture could barely hide that he was in pain.

“Don’t flatter yourself. Your flat was closest.”

“Do come in, then. What can I do for you this time?” Edward entered- or tried to, to be more precise. He practically fell into Jonathan’s arms, who caught him begrudgingly. “I take this to mean that you’re injured.”

“No shit”, Edward spat between his teeth. “The Bat hit me with one of those damn batarangs. What kind of grown man gives his weapons names like that anyway?” Jonathan helped Edward into his one-room flat.

“Let me have a look, then.” Edward forced a smile

“No laughing”, He gritted his teeth as he pushed his trousers down

Jonathan wasn’t even tempted to laugh; the wound looked truly painful: A batarang was stuck in the back of Edward’s thigh, almost completely buried in the swollen flesh.

“You’ve been lucky”, Jonathan said, opening a make-shift first aid-kit. “An inch to the right and he might have severed the muscle.”

“Lucky me”, Edward dead-panned. “Can you remove it?”

“Yes.” Jonathan paused. “It’s going to hurt.”

“I’d be amazed if it didn’t.” Edward hissed. “Just do it.”

“You should lie down. In case you’ll faint.” Jonathan made sure to put a towel on the bed. There would be a lot of blood. Edward grimaced as he lay down.

“That’s not how I had pictured me in your bed.” Jonathan took in the sight of Edward’s pale, bloodied body.

“I can’t complain, really.” He said with mock-sincerity. “You’ve often pictured yourself in my bed, then?”

“You wi-“ Jonathan yanked the batarang out without warning. Edward cried out and cursed, burying his face in the pillow. Jonathan disinfected and dressed the wound with professional precision.

“There”, he finally said. “Change the band-aid regularly and keep the cut clean if you don’t favour a sepsis.” Edward tried to get up but the pain was quite obviously overwhelming. “I could inject you with a local anaesthetic”, Jonathan offered but Edward was quick to decline:

“It’s not that I don’t trust you with a needle but- well, I don’t trust you with a needle.” Jonathan shrugged.

“It’s your choice. The pain won’t lessen all too soon. It will be hard to move once the adrenaline ebbs down. You’re already close to tears and you’re just laying there.” Edward glared at him. There was a fire in his eyes. Jonathan raised an eyebrow. “I wonder”, he said, enjoying himself just a little too much. “Are you scared of injections?”

“You’re unbelievable”, Edward hissed. “I’m in no mood to play chicken.” Jonathan smirked.  
“You’ve seemed quite fond of it in the past.”

“I don’t want an anaesthetic, Jon! I don’t need one!” Edward stressed. He managed to sit up, even though it pained him visibly. “See? I’m fine.” Jonathan tilted his head.

“You’ve made some bad experiences?” Edward gave a dry laugh.

“The last time I let some street surgeon put me under I almost lost a kidney to the black market.” Jonathan smiled in a way that Edward deemed deeply unsettling.

“I would have loved to see that.”

“That’s it”, Edward said through his teeth. “You’re not going anywhere near me while I’m incapacitated.” Jonathan watched him closely, as he got to his feet. Every muscle in Edward’s body seemed to protest, his face was tense from pain and yet he was too proud to ask for any additional help. _Let him be proud, then_. Jonathan thought, grimly. _Let him enjoy his stubborn pride._ Edward limped to the door. Half turning towards Jonathan he japed: “I’d kiss you good-bye but experience tells me that it wouldn’t do much good for the ache in my jaw.” Jonathan closed the distance between them in a single motion. He saw Edward flinch and a sick delight formed inside of his chest, followed by a rather different emotion. Jonathan’s hands cupped Edward’s face, careful not to touch the bruises, and his lips brushed Edward’s for just a split second, barely touching them, the mere phantom of a kiss.

“Goodbye, Edward. Try not to bleed out on your way home.” Edward smiled slyly and averted his eyes somewhat, catching sight of a heap of crumbled notes.

“You know, you sure should get a grip on all those manic scribbles lying around all over the place.” Jonathan scoffed.

“I’m working.”

“Trying to, no doubt. Maybe I should have a look-”

“Oh no, you’re going to go home now.” Jonathan’s voice was stern. “You need rest and a healthy dose of morphine.” Edward opened his mouth in protest but Jonathan was in no mood for arguing. He let his right hand stroke down Edward’s spine towards his thigh. He had barely reached the small of Edward’s back when the younger one gave a sharp hiss of pain. “See?” Jonathan said dryly. “Rest and morphine.” Edward bit his lip in a mix of anger, pain and honest surprise.

“One might almost think you care”, were the last words he said before leaving Jonathan Crane standing in the middle of his lousy one-room flat.   

The event left Jonathan weary. Random thoughts kept distracting him from his work and quite a few of them involved Edward. Grimly, almost stoically, Jonathan tried to rationalize those sudden bursts of warmth and worked even harder on his new recipe. There was no use in fostering fond feelings, after all.

Thus newly enthusiastic about his experiments, Jonathan managed to develop a proto-type of the improved formula in record time. When he took to testing it, however, he was deeply disappointed: He must have miscalculated in his haste; his first test-subject had a heart-attack within less than a minute. Some changes where scribbled down, some new catalysts where tested and another test-subject died prematurely. Jonathan furrowed his brow. This was highly unpleasant. What use was a substance that killed a patient before even developing its full potential? Jonathan sighted, frustrated. He would have to start from the beginning, calculate everything anew; there had to be a way to make it work… Edward. Oh, damn, it always came down to thinking about Edward these days! Yet Edward _had_ offered to help him with the formula and Jonathan wasn’t too proud to admit that Edward would probably be of actual help. He sighted. There was a rather easy solution to both of his current problems. _Oh well,_ he thought begrudgingly _. It might just be time to visit an old friend._ Jonathan grabbed the subject’s body under the armpits and heaved her upwards. One had to keep one's work space clean, after all.

Edward studied himself in the mirror. There where day’s when he barely recognized the man he had become, this self-assured man clad in expensive suits. He tugged some stray hair behind his ear and smiled one of those smiles that made people pause and look at him in envy.  Edward knew that he had come a long way; he wasn’t a boy any longer. His criminal career hadn’t had an easy start. It had taken cunning and skill to earn his place among Gotham’s most wanted. He knew that he belonged there. This was his rightful place and yet… it bugged him to admit it but there was something missing still; something more important than fame and riches. How could he ever enjoy all of this as long as the Bat was out there? Claiming to be oh so clever; mocking Edward with the most intriguing riddle: Who wears the Cape and Cowl? But watch and wait, Gotham. There is, after all, no mystery the Riddler can’t solve. Your saviour might soon be unmasked.

Edward was adjusting his tie when Jonathan entered.

“You seem to have recovered quite well.” Jonathan enjoyed the way Edward flinched. “I hope you don’t mind that I let myself in. I thought it’s only fair, since you keep breaking into my places all the time.”

“My leg still hurts”, Edward responded with dignity, ignoring the underlying accusation. “But I manage. What do you want, Crane?” Jonathan scoffed.

“We’re back to last names, then? Well, suit yourself. I came to ask your thoughts on the formula you seemed so interested in when we last met.” Edward ran a nervous hand trough his hair.

“Sure. Let’s see…” Jonathan begrudgingly spread his notes on the desk.

“I know you’re not a chemist, Edward, but I could use a second pair of eyes on this one. I’m still searching for a fitting stabilizer-“

“Right there”, Edward pointed his finger. “That can’t be right…” He took a pencil and wrote some alterations. Jonathan shook his head, taking the pencil form Edward’s hand.  
“No, I’ve got to include that you can’t just cross it out. Unless…” Jonathan’s head jerked up. “I might be able to substitute it. If I find something with a similar effect on the nervous system…” He started scribbling, suddenly excited. Edward watched with mild amusement.

“You’re very welcome.” His fingers brushed Jonathan’s. Their eyes met.

“Thank you”, Jonathan said with sincerity. “I do get lost in details, sometimes.” They were standing very close. Edward’s mouth felt dry. Shuddering, he put his arms around Jonathan’s neck, searching his eyes for something he couldn’t quite name. Jonathan got the hint and bend far enough for Edward to reach his lips. They kissed. It was slow and sweet and nothing at all like the kisses Edward was used to. He had to take a deep breath as they parted. Jonathan studied him with almost scientific precision. He knew the words that would resolve Edward’s remaining reservations and it made him feel incredibly powerful. A compliment, a praise, a hoarse _I’ve never met someone as brilliant as you_ or a tender _I’m not worthy of you_ paired with a chaste kiss and a few slow, caressing motions would suffice to... But strangely enough, Jonathan did not want that. He did not want to cheat Edward like that, felt a low rage at the thought that others might have done so in the past. He did not want Edward in such a crude way, had never sought that sort of pleasure. No, he wanted to possess Edward wholly, to know, to feel his every fibre, to learn how he responded to every subtlety, be it word or touch.

“You do understand”, Jonathan murmured, still very close to Edward’s mouth. “That we have to stop doing this, don’t you?” His hands had come to rest on Edward’s hips.

“Well”, Edward responded, tugging Jonathan closer, “We’ll have enough time to regret it tomorrow.”

 

Jonathan was all sharp edges; skin and bones and spite. Edward could trace each of his rips, each piece of his spine with his fingers. He was almost expecting to leave bruises. Jonathan’s touches were precise: Armour-piercing; throughout. There was no such thing as a job half done to him and he knew just the spots to undo Edward completely. He kissed Edward’s neck and shoulder blades as his hands moved slowly, steadily, onwards. Edward tried to hurry him up with an impatient complaint, but was shushed with even more tenderness.

“If we’re doing this”, Jonathan whispered, “Then we are doing it my way.” And his way was slow and sweet and painfully efficient; it seemed to last forever and still ended too soon. Edward whispered something as they lay there, a silly three-word-phrase not meant to be heard. They fell asleep together.

 

Edward woke in a panic before the sun had even started to rise. He could barely remember what the nightmare had been about but the fact that he wasn’t alone didn’t help to calm him down at all. Running a hand through his hair, Edward tried to steady his breathing: It had all been a dream – just a morbid, horrid dream – and everything would be alright. Jonathan started to stir. Edward’s heartbeat quickened once more as he realized, actually realized, that he had slept with Jonathan Crane.

Jonathan was awakened by the distant sensation of somebody moving. Edward was sitting upright, starring at him in disbelieve. Jonathan blinked, unease rising in his stomach. He forced it down with sheer power of will.

“What’s the matter?” He asked, reaching to touch Edward’s face, who recoiled. The underlying concern in Jonathan’s voice made Edward feel a flash of anger.

“Don’t”, he said, cursing himself, “Don’t pretend this is more than it is.” He pushed Jonathan’s hands away and felt trapped all of a sudden. Jonathan raised an eyebrow.

“Would you mind to elaborate?” The words tasted bitter. Edward froze like a deer caught in the headlights.

“I don’t sleep with people I care for, okay? You’re making things complicated!” Jonathan’s eyes watched him with intensity.

“You _care_ for me?” Edward paled. Jonathan could clearly see how his defences rose. There was arrogance in Edward’s voice as he spoke again.

“I granted you my friendship, did I not?” Jonathan eyed the tangled bed-sheets.

“Friendship”, he repeated, eyebrows raised. “We’re still calling it that, then? Last night you said-“, Edward cut him short.

"It's all just words and empty phrases. ‘I love you. I would die for you. You hold my heart in your hands’...” He averted his eyes as he spoke.  “Riddle me this: What good is an idiom?"

“Words have power”, Jonathan said plainly. “They can harm, kill even. They can nurture and heal as well. You of all people should know that. Words are as much your profession as they are mine.” Edward’s eyes narrowed.

“What are you trying to say?”

“What do you _want_ me to say? That I lo-”

“Don’t!” Edward sprang to his feet. “Don’t you dare!”

“You’re afraid”, Jonathan noted with a hint of satisfaction.

“Am not! I’m- It’s-” Edward paused, startled. “Don’t ruin this, okay? I didn’t mean to say it. Forget I ever did. I should go now.” Edward grabbed his shirt but Jonathan got a hold of his arm.

“These things are even more foreign to me than they are to you. I shouldn’t have played with those words but I won’t let you storm off like this.” Edward gave a bitter laugh as he tugged himself free.

“I dare you to stop me, then.” It wasn’t until he had smashed the door shut that he remembered it was his very own apartment and he had neither taken shoes nor keys.

 

Edward cursed himself while he buttoned his shirt up. He should have known better than this. To sleep with Jonathan Crane of all people! He left the building in a hurry. Someone with his level of intellect should be far above this childish desire for closeness and yet it kept getting in the way of more important things. What did it matter to him if Jonathan had started to… what? Take an interest in him? Best case scenario, Edward might be able to use that to his advantage. But what if Jonathan was playing _him_? How could he ever know for certain that this wasn’t just another mind game? Edward forced himself to quit that line of thought. No, he did not trust Jonathan but he _knew_ him. At least well enough to know that he wasn’t the kind of person that slept around – Hell, Jonathan was the least sexual person he knew, period.

Thus dwelling on his situation, Edward didn’t notice the dark figure that was about to finish its nightly patrol. The first blow hit him from behind, pressing all air out of his lungs. A hand covered his mouth and an arm wrapped itself around his throat, pulling him towards the shadows of an alley. For a moment, Edward thought that some common mugger had dared to attack him and tried to claw at the man’s hands but then he recognised the familiar feel of keflar gloves. He forced himself to stop moving; hands still laying on the arm that choked him but not applying anymore useless pressure. He knew this game; the Bat would have to release him soon. He was already feeling dizzy when the Bat let go. His eyes had watered but he suppressed a cough. Edward made a grand gesture out of straightening his shirt – he might be standing barefooted and in shirtsleeves but he still had his pride and dignity – and forced a mock smile.

“My, that’s not the greeting I expected.” A fist hit him straight in the jaw and panic set in as he felt something crack. The pain was sudden and burning hot but it didn’t dull out the Batman’s words completely.

“If you try to go after me again”, Edward wasn’t sure if he fell or was pushed but there was concrete underneath him all of a sudden and his jaw wasn’t the only thing hurting anymore. “I _will_ kill you.”

 

Jonathan left Edward’s apartment as soon as he had reassembled what was left of his dignity. He hurried home and buried himself in work once more. Things had spiralled far out of his area of expertise and denial seemed like a most reasonable reaction right now.

Two days later, he went to the little shop around the corner and was, once again, captivated by a magazine cover. Jonathan stopped abruptly and grabbed the issue, scanning it for information. The old cashier addressed him with a chirpy: “Finally got what he was due, Sir. T’was only a matter of time, if you ask me.”  Jonathan responded with an unintelligible, grumbling sound. The cashier continued: “The Batman almost strangled him, they say, and the Riddler still refused to speak in anything but- well, riddles.” Jonathan couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“Really.” He said dryly. “How highly unusual.”

“’Tis all in here”, the old man said, pointing to the magazine, and Jonathan bought it with a sigh. 

 

Edward hated the Asylums medical wing. The doctors usually ignored him and the nurses never managed to hit a vein on first try; being there tended therefore to be both boring _and_ painful. Right now, it had become awfully quiet, unusually quiet even. Edward’s eyes narrowed as he made an effort to catch some kind of noise and- yes, there was a distant sound indeed. Edward forced his body upright, alarmed, and listened again. The sound resembled a steady, low hiss. It was just as if a gas pipe had broken. He was already planning his escape from certain death, when the alarms finally went off. Nurses jerked their heads and rushed off to see what had happened but none of them returned. Edward’s uneasiness grew. Then, there was a scream, no common scream, far from it. It was a scream of sheer, blatant terror and suddenly Edward understood. A flash of pride shot through his body. Getting out of bed was painful but he couldn’t care less. He wouldn’t wait and lye till Crane came to the rescue; he would face him on his feet instead and try not to show just how giddy he felt: Jonathan cared enough about him to wreck havoc on the asylum and Edward couldn’t help but admit that the thought made his insides tingle. He had to steady himself on one of the nurse’s desks as he crossed the room. She had been reading a magazine and Edward’s lips twisted into a smile as he caught his name on the cover. He was well aware that they had quoted him; he had taken care to be more than charming when the reporter asked him for a comment.

_Question: What’s the difference between a heart and a jewel?_

_Answer: While you might steal both, only one can be bought; the other has to be won._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it, "Idioms" is officially over. I loved writting these two. Thank's for sticking with the series; I know that the hiatus was unbearably long.


End file.
